


mayoral duties

by electronic_elevator



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Embarrassment, Omorashi, Pre-Canon, getting caught, wetting a suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electronic_elevator/pseuds/electronic_elevator
Summary: A long, stressful morning of meetings keeps Damien away from the bathroom for long enough that, when he’s finally able to make a break for it, he ends up pissing himself in the hallway, leaving a rather incriminating puddle and ruining his suit pants. Luckily, the only one who sees him is the DA.
Relationships: Damien | The Mayor/Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	mayoral duties

**Author's Note:**

> [the unfaithful boyfriend meme where I’m the boyfriend, the girlfriend is my ~20 pre-existing ideas/WIPs, and the girl I’m checking out is writing more about Damien in compromising situations] 
> 
> …ik it’s been ages since I posted. I fell into a lack of inspiration (but, as you can infer from the text-based meme, not a lack of ideas) for a bit, and now I’m working full time at weird hours, but I’m not dead!! Still kickin’ and still thinkin’ too much about cute boys pissing themselves. <3

Important deadlines for important decisions loomed at the end of the week, which was also the end of the day, and, unfortunately for the Mayor, this had meant a very long morning of meetings broken only by short recesses during which colleagues kept talking to him about the issues at hand. Without a chance to slip away and given that the ongoing conversations (perhaps more aptly called debates) required him to keep sipping water to keep his voice in working order, by lunch, Damien was absolutely desperate for the bathroom. And, though they were down to the wire, minimal progress had been made in actual _decision making_ so the lunch break had become merely a different arena for discussion, into which Damien had rapidly become embroiled — until the very end, when there was a break in the torturous conversation for the first time. 

He was so desperate that he could tell he was becoming uncharacteristically short, and his distraction was detracting from his ability to articulate his points, which he hated. As the time ticked on, he had even considered being outright rude and cutting someone off to leave, but luckily it hadn’t come to that. At this relatively natural point to excuse himself, he nearly ran from the room in fear of being stopped by anyone else for any _thing_ else.

Damien was alarmed to find his top speed was compromised by his need. He was forced to shuffle along down the empty hallway. Damien couldn’t remember ever needing a piss so badly in his life, but surely he could make it, or so he was telling himself… despite the fact that he was biting his lip to keep himself from whimpering with pure need as every step brought him to the brink of leaking. But, he couldn’t imagine any other possibility — after all, it was the middle of a work day! There was no way he could wet himself because he had no idea what he’d do after. 

One more hallway, and he’d be safe. 

Because he’d completely convinced himself that he would make it, when he did leak, he was so surprised by the wetness and heat suddenly streaking down his thigh that he stopped walking with a terrified gasp, and failed to regain control for a full second. Damien refused to hold himself when he’d inevitably get piss on his hands, so he pressed his thighs together tightly, knuckles going white on his cane. As soon as he’d brought himself back under control, he tried to take a step, but he immediately leaked again, and this time piss dripped onto the floor. “God, no, please no…” he breathed, feeling a hot blush cover his face. 

He’d frozen still again, trying to decide whether making a run for it would be a disaster or his only chance. The seconds of indecision were too many to wait, and next came less of a leak and more of completely losing it. Damien could do nothing but whimper as he left a puddle on the floor of his workplace. 

The physical relief of releasing hours of piss was overshadowed by the humiliation and fear, especially as his stream trickled to a stop. Damien was terrified someone would come around the corner and see him like this. He blinked back the tears that were stinging at his eyes — crying about it certainly wouldn’t help, and he was embarrassed enough without breaking down about it — and tried to think rationally, but then he thought he heard voices approaching and his heart nearly stopped. Entirely without thinking it through, he lighted on the door to a supply closet just a bit further down the hallway, ran to it, and shut himself inside. …Though, immediately after the door shut, Damien realized if someone _was_ coming, they’d still see the puddle. If he was caught in his wet pants hiding in a closet after that, he might actually die of the shame. 

But if he wasn’t seen in the hallway, there were fewer reasons for someone to walk down it. So, as stupid as it made him feel, he stayed in the closet and listened until he was fairly sure they’d passed by — if there had been anyone at all. 

With a shaky sigh of relief, Damien looked down at himself. His suit was black today, so it wouldn’t be terribly obvious from a distance, but he could tell the fabric was wet — both from the way it reflected light and the way it clung to his legs, not to mention the smell of piss. 

Damien did actually have a spare suit in his office. He’d brought it in a long time ago, thinking more of potential food spills than anything like _this._ It was a light grey, so it wouldn’t be a subtle change, but it was his only option. However, he wasn’t sure how to retrieve it from his office, which was two hallways in the other direction. At the end of the lunch hour, he would almost definitely be seen by someone on his way there. 

As horrible as that possibility was, Damien couldn’t leave until he’d cleaned up the puddle. It wasn’t right to leave a mess like that… and, if someone happened upon it, they could fairly easily put two and two together once he showed up in a different pair of pants. He realized the supply closet he’d been hiding in probably had cleaning supplies and was about to look around when, this time, he _definitely_ heard someone in the hallway, and from close by.

“What the—?” they’d said, sounding bewildered and a little disgusted. 

Damien’s stomach dropped, but after a second of processing, he placed the voice — it was the District Attorney, his old friend. Of all the people who could’ve found him like this, at least it was them. He opened the door, sheepishly. “Y/N, I— er, I can explain,” Damien said.

For a moment, they just took in his soaked pants and red face. “…Oh, Damien,” they said pityingly. 

“…I was looking for something to clean it up with,” Damien mumbled. As it turned out, the rest of the explanation was pretty damn obvious. 

“What are you going to do?” the DA asked. 

“I don’t know,” Damien confessed, trying not to let himself tear up again. “Could you… help me? I’ve got a spare pair of suit pants in my office. I just don’t want anyone else to know about this…”

“I can get them for you,” the DA offered, then continued a bit hesitantly: “I was coming after you because people are wondering where you went.” 

“Already?! I was only gone a few minutes!”

“You know how it is this time of year… but, you should hurry back, before anyone else comes looking for you. I’ll bring you the pants.” 

Damien sighed. “Okay. I’ll clean up here.” 

The DA nodded, walking quickly off to Damien’s office. 

Damien turned back to the closet, where there were indeed cleaning supplies. He grabbed them, intending to walk back to where he’d had his accident, but then he noticed he’d left a smaller puddle of drips in the closet itself, and a small trail between that and the large one in the hallway. Looking at it, he flushed bright red again, thanking the stars it had been the DA who found him. He got to work quickly in hopes of avoiding anyone else finding out. 

When the floor was clean, he took the soiled towels to the bathroom. He tried not to feel resentful of the fact that he’d been so close — it was only around the corner. A knock at the door made him jump midway through washing his hands. “Occupied!” he called, hoping that would be sufficient to get them to leave.

“It’s me,” the DA replied. 

Damien breathed a sigh of relief, opening the door. The DA held out a parcel. “Here you are. I wrapped them up so that no one would question why I had them.”

“Thank you,” Damien said sincerely, taking it from them.

“You’re welcome… just hurry back, or people’ll ask questions,” they advised before leaving.

Damien heeded the advice, quickly cleaning himself up and getting redressed. He wrapped his wet clothes up again, and darted to his office just long enough to leave them behind his desk before rushing back to the meeting room. His colleagues were already starting the next session and he had to gesture for them to hold the doors, but he slipped through, and made his way to his seat as opening remarks were made. 

…Damien was nearly certain a couple of people were giving him _looks,_ and whether for his lateness or the fact that he was suddenly in a mismatched suit he didn’t want to know. In either case, he figured it would be best to not acknowledge it, and feign ignorance if asked, though he wasn’t able to keep a blush from coloring his cheeks yet again. With his best professional expression, he tried to focus on the speaker.


End file.
